


Repetition [Discontinued]

by bantiarna



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/type Redline
Genre: Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26261983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bantiarna/pseuds/bantiarna
Summary: [This fanfiction is discontinued and will not be updated.]"Oryo could never understand why Ryouma insisted on protecting humans so much considering all the awful things they did to him….but she loved Ryouma, so she didn’t need to understand it. All she needed to do is protect him. And how she completely and utterly failed. Again."As the Holy Grail War rages on, Oryo has a simple mission: rescue Ryouma. Ryouma's mission? Survive.
Relationships: Oryou/Sakamoto Ryouma
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Alone

When Ryouma woke up, he couldn’t see. Panic started building up in his chest, but he took in a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. He hadn’t lost his vision; he was sure of that.

He shifted his head and felt the rough cloth of a blindfold scratch at his face. He attempted to pull off the blindfold but found himself unable to move his arms. His shoulders ached from how his arms were twisted behind him, and his wrists stung from the tight rope that bound them together. Cool metal pressed up against his back.

He scrunched up his nose to try to nudge the edges of the blindfold up, but it refused to budge. He scowled, frustrated. He was going to have to rely on his other senses to figure out where he was.

He found that his legs were unrestrained, so he could only assume that he was forced to sit on the ground and was chained to a wall. He lifted his one leg and slammed it on the ground. The rubber sole of his dress shoe made a dull echo on a metal floor.

So, the entire room was made of metal, then? As far as he was aware, there weren’t too many places in 1940s Japan that were made entirely out of metal.

He braced his back against the wall and shut his eyes to focus. The room around him shifted ever so slightly, rocking slowly back and forth. The gentle sway was all too familiar to him.

_ A ship _ . Probably still in the harbor, he assumed based on the minuscule rocking.

But  _ why _ was he on a ship, bound and blindfolded? He racked his brain, but the memories leading up to this moment were fuzzy. He recalled some form of an ambush, and he was separated from the Master of Saber and Oryo—

Oryo.

_ Where was Oryo? _

Panic rose in his throat.

“Or—” he stopped himself. He sucked in a deep breath. “Rider. Rider, are you here?”

His voice sounded hoarse. A sudden wave of dehydration came over him. Why did he feel so thirsty? Can Servants even  _ get _ dehydrated? 

“Oh? So yer awake?” A gruff voice sounded from somewhere inside the room.

Ryouma froze. He hadn’t considered that there might be other people here. Were they other prisoners? Guards? No, he would have sensed them. He was sure of it. The man that the voice belonged to seemed to appear from thin air.

A chuckle echoed off the metal walls. “Can’t believe they put me on somethin’ as borin’ as guard duty. Gotta say it was entertain’ watchin’ ya sleep though. You flounderin’ like some fish on land made my night.”

A chair scraped across the floor. The man let out a loud yawn. “Guess I’ll let my superiors know yer finally up.”

“Ah, leaving so soon?” Ryouma forced a smile. “I was hoping you could tell me—”

The sheath of a katana slammed into his face. Ryouma slumped over, pain bursting across his face. Where the _fuck_ did that come from? Was there a second person in the room?

Rough hands grabbed the collar of Ryouma’s coat and pulled him up.

“Don’t think ya can charm yer way outta this one, pretty boy,” the man hissed, his breath hot on Ryouma’s ear.

The man pushed him back down, causing Ryouma’s head to slam into the wall. Stars burst across his vision, and a groan escaped his lips.

Rubber soles scuffed across the floor as the man walked away. The door to his room creaked open, allowing some light in. Through the cracks in the blindfold’s weaving, Ryouma could make out the rough shape of a single man. 

“And don’t ya worry about that servant of yers,” The man sneered. “She ain't gonna be much help to ya now.”

With that, the man slammed the door shut, leaving Ryouma alone in darkness again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I can edit the title of this because I literally have no idea what to call this.


	2. Interrogation

Ryouma and Oryo don’t have a master. Or at least, not a human one. The pair were summoned by the entity, Alaya because they are a part of humanity’s counter-force. They are called upon in times where humanity is on the brink of destroying themselves. Thus, they were brought to the middle of the second World War to take part in a Holy Grail War. 

In this Holy Grail War, they took the role of Rider. Because of their special circumstances, two servants being summoned as one, Ryouma thought it would be best to take full advantage of it.

“So, Ryouma is no longer Ryouma?” Oryo floated above him as he worked at the small desk in the hotel room they rented. A small magic circle glowed on a piece of paper as Ryouma pricked the back of his hand with an antique looking needle.

“Well, yes and no. I’m still Ryouma, but you can’t call me that. You’re going to have to call me Master.”

“Master.” Oryo grimaced, as though the word had a sour taste. She floated downward, peering over his shoulder. “What is Ryouma doing?”

“It’s  _ Master _ , Oryo-san—ah, I mean, Rider.”

“See? Ryouma is bad at faking it, too. We should abandon this plan.”

“It’s just going to take some getting used to. Ah, it’s done.” The magic circle’s glow faded as Ryouma raised his left hand. Oryo leaned in to inspect it. Three command spells were etched into skin on the back of his hand. Oryo’s eyes flicked up to meet his.

“Did it hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted. “But they look authentic, right? If I did it right, they should activate. They won’t affect you though, it’s just for show,” he added when he saw Oryo’s frown.

Oryo put a finger to his lips, shushing him. “Ry—Master shouldn’t risk ruining them for a demonstration. If Master says they work, Rider-san trusts him.”

Ryouma beamed. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “Thank you, Rider.”

* * *

“Wakey, wakey!”

Cold water doused Ryouma, jerking him awake. Rough hands grabbed his coat collar and dragged him towards the middle of the room. He’s shoved into a chair and the blindfold is ripped off his face.

Ryouma grimaced, the sudden change in light hurting his eyes. He turned his face away, but the same rough hands grabbed his jaw and forced him to look forward. He squinted his eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

“Mr. Umetaro. Or is it Mr. Saitiani? I can never figure out which it is when you flip your names around.” A cool voice drifted from the figure sitting in front of him. Ryouma’s vision cleared up, and he saw a young woman dressed in a German uniform. She flipped through a file. She raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for his answer.

Ryouma gave no response. The young woman frowned..

“I understand you are allies with the Master of Saber?” She shut the file and leaned forward. “You do realize you’re working for the enemy, correct? The Master of Saber and company betrayed the Emperor, and in turn, the Tripartite Pact by actively thwarting our efforts in this Holy Grail War.”

Ryouma frowned. The young woman clicked her tongue.

“If you tell us the whereabouts of the Saber, and her true name, I’m sure we can forget your little alliance. Let you off with a small slap on the wrist as a reward for cooperating. After all, I would hate to have torture a citizen of an ally.”

So, Saber and her Master managed to escape the ambush. That’s all the information Ryouma needed to know. Ryouma just needed to steer the conversation away from them.

“Ally?” Ryouma chuckled.

The young woman pursed her lips. “Is something funny, Mr. Umetaro?”

“Both the Imperial Japanese Army and the Third Reich have stakes in this Grail War. You really expect me to believe you’ll uphold the Tripartite Pact for a rival Master?”

The young woman didn’t answer. She straightened up, crossing her legs. “You know what I find interesting? All three of your command seals are still intact.”

Ryouma suppressed a smile. She fell right for it.

The young woman continued, “Despite being abused, kidnapped, and locked away in who-knows-where, you haven’t once used your most powerful tool to call on your servant. Not even a simple ‘come.’ Now that either makes you the biggest idiot in the world, or you’re hiding something.” She glanced over to him, smirking. “And I don’t take you for an idiot, Master of Rider.” 

“I appreciate the compliment, but perhaps I don’t feel the need to call on my servant?” Ryouma offered.

The young woman frowned. “Assassin.”

The hands that forced his face forward let go. Suddenly, pain burst throughout Ryouma’s leg as a katana stabbed the top of his thigh.

Ryouma bit back a scream.

The servant behind him sneered. “Ah, c’mon, yer ruinin’ the best part.”

He twisted the blade with a grunt. A small cry escaped Ryouma’s lips.

“S’rry. Didn’t hear that!”

Pain blossomed in Ryouma’s chest as the katana stabbed into his side. Assassin skillfully maneuvered the katana out, whipping the blood off the blade with a small flick of the wrist.

The copper taste of blood filled Ryouma’s mouth. He coughed it out, gasping for air.

The young woman waved her hand and the Assassin stepped back, sheathing his katana. She leaned forward. “Perhaps you need your servant now?”

Ryouma spat the remaining blood in his mouth onto her face. She reeled back, groaning in disgust.

The sheath of Assassin’s katana whipped across Ryouma’s face. He fell from his chair from the force, slamming onto the metal floor. The Assassin stomped on Ryouma’s face, breaking his nose. He then grabbed the rope that bound Ryouma’s wrists and readied his blade.

“Might as well cut these off if you ain’t gonna use them,” he growled as he pressed his katana into Ryouma’s left wrist. Blood leaked from the cut and dripped down his arm.

“Assassin!”

Assassin stopped, scowling at the young woman. She returned his scowl. “That’s enough. Leave him to bleed.”

Assassin dropped Ryouma.

Ryouma sucked in a breath as pain burst throughout his body.

Assassin scoffed. “You take the fun outta everything.”

Assassin stepped over Ryouma as he followed the young woman out of the room. The young woman turned back to face Ryouma, her hand on the door. “I suggest co-operating with us if you want to survive, Mr. Umetaro.”

The door shut with a loud bang.

Ryouma groaned, rolling onto his back. He still wasn’t able to see the Assassin properly. But what kind of an assassin uses a katana? Ryouma tried to wrack his brain for ideas, but the pain from all his wounds kept him from properly evaluating the servant.

He slowly sat up, his vision adjusting to the darkness. The room he was being held in was small with no furniture except for the chair they dragged him onto.

He shifted his head around to scan the room. There didn’t seem to be any surveillance either, not even so much as a magic circle or familiar.

He tried to stand, but his injured leg gave out before he could put any real weight on it. Pain seared across his skin like hot coals with every move he took. He sucked in a breath, trying to even out his breathing. He couldn’t keep this Master act up any longer. He needed to get out.

Based on the information from the young woman, who he now assumed to be the Master of Assassin, Oryo-san wasn’t captured either, which left him with one less thing to worry about. 

“We’re going to have to cut our plan a little short,” he sighed. “Not that I think you’d mind.”

Ryouma shut his eyes. In order to escape, all he had to do was go into his spirit origin form. It was a simple plan, although he wasn’t particularly happy about giving away his one trump card. 

Maybe he would be able to spin this in his favor? Neither the Assassin or his Master seemed to be the brightest bulbs in the room. They’d probably be dense enough to believe that his “servant” broke him out.

A few moments passed, but he still felt the physical world weighing down on him. He opened his eyes. He still had his physical body. Panic began to rise in his chest as a new realization hit him.

He can’t shift into spirit origin form.


	3. Cooperation

Oryo was never one to think things through. Ryouma was the one who came up with the plans; Oryo simply played her part as necessary. If Oryo had her way, she would punch her way through most issues. Hell, she probably wouldn’t have even joined the counter-force if it wasn’t for Ryouma. What does she owe humans?

But Ryouma loved humanity and wished to protect it. Oryo could never understand why Ryouma insisted on protecting them so much considering all the awful things they did to him….but she loved Ryouma, so she didn’t need to understand it. All she needed to do is protect him.

And how she completely and utterly failed. Again. 

“Rider! Where are you going?”

The Master of Saber’s voice grated against her ear. What was the child’s name again? Kentaro? Keiko? Whatever. It didn’t matter to her what he was called.

Oryo turned, hovering a few feet above the ground. The two humans and the one servant watched her, almost with pity. Oryo hated it. 

The four of them barely managed to escape to a small, abandoned warehouse after a surprise ambush by the Assassin and his Master’s goons. The Assassin was particularly annoying. For some reason, he felt the need to talk every other minute. He wanted to finish his duel with the Saber. 

Oryo would have been happy to let them duke it out and slip away, but Ryouma was insistent on staying.

“The Master of Saber needs to win this Grail War,” he had told her. 

Oryo didn’t understand what made that child so special. Why _him_? He looked pathetic. He was not suited for a battlefield, let alone a war. She and Ryouma could easily take this Grail War. She was sure of it. Why did they have to ally themselves with such a weakling of a Master?

“Where else would be Rider going? I’m going to look for Master,” she snapped. 

“We can help!” the child answered, motioning to the Saber that stood beside him. The Saber nodded in agreement. 

“As your allies, it is our responsibility to reunite you with your Master,” Saber added.

“Wait just a minute!” the third member of their group, a young woman, piped up. Oryo already knew what she was thinking. _Just leave him to die; we’re going to have to eliminate them at some point anyway._

If their roles were reversed, that was what Oryo would suggest. But Ryouma…

 _“They’re our allies, Oryo-san. We have to help them.”_ Oryo could even imagine his effortless smile as the words drifted into her thoughts. Ryouma was always smiling. Oryo didn’t understand it. 

Oryo blinked, her attention coming back to the present. While she had been lost in thought, her three other companions seemed to be in the middle of a heated argument. 

For a brief moment, she entertained the idea of allowing them to help. But as she watched them bicker, she shook it away. They’d get in the way. They’d distract her. They’d slow her down. 

She could only trust herself to handle this situation. 

With that, Oryo disappeared into the shadows of the warehouse.

* * *

Ryouma pressed his head against the cool metal wall. His forehead burned and he couldn’t stop sweating. Every breath felt like he was inhaling needles. He felt exhausted. _Why_? He was a Servant! Servants can’t get exhausted. 

Was it magic? He glanced around his cell again. Nothing indicated any use of magic. He didn’t even sense any magic around him. 

And even if it _was_ magic, he was a _Rider_. His class has built-in magic resistance! Spells to make him weaker shouldn’t impact him this much. It’s what makes them so effective against Casters in the first place!

God, he just wanted to sleep. To escape this pain for a brief moment. How many times has he fallen asleep already? 

Ryouma slowed his breathing to ease the pain. His eyelids drooped and he felt himself begin to drift off. 

Then, that noise.

A high-pitched whirring bursted into his room, echoing off the metal walls and exponentially getting louder. It felt as though his head was being drilled into with thousands of tiny needles. 

Ryouma tried to pull his arms apart. He wanted to--no-- _needed_ to cover his ears. But his restraints would not budge. Ryouma maneuvered himself to place his head between his knees. His body screamed in protest, but he couldn’t care less. 

He needed relief. God, it hurt, it hurt, _it hurt_. He felt blood drip from his ears as he tried to press his knees against them. But he wasn’t a very flexible man. All he could do was press his knees against his cheeks.

Make it stop. Make it stop. “ _Make it stop!_ ”

Suddenly, relief. His head felt a million times lighter as soon as the noise ceased. He jerked his head up, completely disoriented. He felt dizzy and the ship felt like it was rocking a lot faster than it originally was.

“Ask and you shall receive.” That familiar cool voice drifted from beyond his cell door. “Although it was very entertaining watching you squirm like the desperate monkey you are.”

Ryouma could already imagine her smirk. What was it with Nazis and comparing everything to monkeys? Don’t they have any other metaphors? 

“See how easy it is when people cooperate, Mr. Umetaro?” 

Ryouma chuckled, a soft smile breaking out on his face. “I can hardly call that cooperation, Master of Assassin. Perhaps if you unbind me and allow me to speak face-to-face with you over a nice meal, I’ll be more inclined to call this ‘a cooperation.” 

“ _Don’t start thinking you have any say here, bastard._ ” 

Her voice dripped with malice. Ryouma felt a shiver run down his spine. Wrong move. 

The whirling started up again. Ryouma gasped, jerking his head back down between his knees. He gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his screams. 

* * *

Outside the cell, the Master of Assassin turned with a huff towards the one guards stationed outside.

“30 minutes.” 

“Tch, don’t ya think that’s overkill?” 

The Master turned to see Assassin materialize behind her. Dressed in ragged clothes and a random hat he found while out on one of his missions, he looked more like a homeless man than a lethal samurai. Acted like it too. 

Assassin continued, scratching at his neck. “Man couldn’t take the 10 seconds ya hit him with. Yer gonna end up killin’ him before we can get any decent info.” 

“What did I say about following me?”

Assassin frowned. “I’m yer Servant. If ya didn’t want someone tailin’ ya all the time, ya shoulda thought twice about becomin’ a Master.” 

The Master’s eye twitched. “Go patrol the area. Make sure that Rider doesn’t show up.” She stalked off down the hall. “And take off that ridiculous hat!” 

Assassin watched her leave, frowning. He glanced at the one guard, who smiled nervously at him.

Within a blink of an eye, Assassin drew his katana, aimed precariously close towards the guard’s neck. The guard stiffened, sweat beading from his forehead.

Assassin’s eyes burned with bloodlust while his face stayed deadly serious. “10 minutes. No longer. I’m never gonna hear the end of it if he accidently dies ‘cause Master's too emotional.” 

The guard nodded. Assassin withdrew his katana. He turned in the opposite direction of his Master and headed down the hall. He slowly began to dematerialize, heading into spirit origin form. 

“I’m comin’ back down to check. If I still see him squirmin’, yer not gonna like it.” A smirk broke across his lips and his eyes glinted. “But I am.”

Before the guard could respond, Assassin completely vanished.


	4. Reunion [Unfinished]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I'm discontinuing this fanfiction. I've gotten very stuck as to how to progress and it's reached a point where I haven't been able to progress past the third chapter. Thank you all for reading and your nice comments. I apologize for not being able to provide a completed fanfiction. I've posted the rest of what I had for chapter 4 here. I hope you enjoy it despite it's incompleteness.
> 
> If I can leave any parting words here, it would be to read Fate/Type Redline. It's very good and exciting!!

Chapter 4 - Reunion

“Ryouma.”

Ryouma turned in the direction of the soft voice. Oryo hovered a few inches above the ground, trailing a little ways behind him. She was wrapped up tightly in a winter kimono, her scarf hiding most of her face. Her ruby red eyes stared intently at him, taking in his every move. 

“Ryouma’s hands are bothering him?” Despite being phrased as a statement, her voice pitched up as though she was asking a question. 

Ryouma let out a breathy chuckle. “Can’t get anything past you, can I, Oryo-san?”

Oryo floated closer to him as he offered his bandaged hands to her. She took them wordlessly.

Her hands felt cold against his warm skin. Ryouma couldn’t help but shiver as her thumbs gently ran against the sides of his palms. He still wasn’t used to her touch yet. Oryo generally kept her distance, waiting or floating a few meters away from him at all times. 

However, after an asassination attempt from a few nights ago, one that left his hands damaged like so, Oryo’s demeanor changed. Ryouma could expect a small tap on his shoulders every now and again and a small push on his back to steer him away from puddles or edges when they walked.

Oryo held his hands in her palms as though she was holding ancient parchment that would crumble away with one wrong move.

“It’s ok,” he breathed. Oryo’s grip tightened ever so slightly in response. 

“How do they bother you?” Oryo asked without looking up.

“They just ache. I’m sure some warmth will help them heal.” 

“Then it’s good that Ryouma is going to a hot spring.” 

Ryouma nodded, smiling. “Shall we get back to it, then?”

He moved away to continue walking, but Oryo refused to budge. She continued to hold his hands in her palms. “Ryouma’s hands still bother him.” Her eyes flicked down to the katana sheathed at his side.

Ryouma chuckled. “I really can’t get anything past you, can I?”

Oryo wrapped her fingers around his and brought them close to her chest. “Ryouma shouldn’t worry. Oryo-san will be your blade from now on.”

Oryo’s words should have brought the young samurai relief. But instead, all he felt was his heart being crushed in his chest as he released a shaky laugh. 

* * *

Ryouma’s eyes cracked open as he stirred from his dream--if one could even call it that. Usually servants didn’t need to sleep, but Ryuoma got into the habit of it in order to pass as a human Master. And every night his dreams would come in the form of memories. Oryo never mentioned if she saw these dreams, but he could only assume she did. He wondered if she felt the same indescribable feeling he felt whenever he woke up.

He sat up, his head pounding and his throat the driest it’s been. The area around his ears and sides of his neck felt stiff from the dried blood. He still found it hard to breathe out of one nostril from the time Assassin had kicked his face in. His body felt heavy, and every muscle in his body screamed for relief as he tried to stretch out his shoulders.

Everything was quiet now. The only sound he heard was the quiet creaking of the ship as the waters gently rocked it to and fro. Ryoma sighed, taking in the peace.

The peace didn’t last long however. His cell door banged open, and he was greeted by the frowning Assassin. 

“So, yer not dead yet.” The Assassin drawled as he shut the door behind him. 

“Disappointed?” Ryoma chuckled. 

The Assassin slid down to a seated position as he shuffled around in the inner pockets of his overcoat. “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Not for ya to say, is it?” 

The Assassin pulled out a warm piece of bread and tore into it with his fang-like teeth. The buttery smell hit Ryoma, and he found himself drooling. Goddamn, he was  _ starving _ . 

“Ya know, we servants don’t hafta eat.” The Assassin took another bite.” But goddamn does it feel good to get somethin’ in yer stomach.” 

The Assassin paused, mouth open to finish off the last of the bread. His amber eyes flicked up to meet Ryouma’s. Another smirk broke out on his face as a ridiculous laugh rose up in his throat.

“You, on the other hand, look like a little puppy dog beggin’ for its dinner!” Assassin bent over, cackling with laughter. 

Ryouma tried to shake the pain of hunger away, but it began to consume him. It didn’t make any sense. He shouldn’t feel hungry. So why did he? 

The Assassin's laughter abruptly stopped, and he looked up at Ryouma, eyes blazing.

“Ya didn’t think yer were actually foolin’ anyone, did ya?” 

“I’m not--” Ryoma was abruptly cut off by the sheath of Assasin’s sword slamming into his face. He felt one of his teeth crack. He tasted blood.

“Ya can drop the act now, dumbass.”

Ryoma spat out the blood filling his mouth as Assassin strode around him. “What act?” Ryoma panted before Assassin whipped him across the face again.

Ryoma’s body crumpled with the hit. He hit the floor with a dull thud. Assassin grabbed him by the scalp and dragged him over to the single chair in the room. 

“I know ya ain’t a Master. Hell, ya ain’t even human.”

He shoved Ryoma onto the seat, fingers digging into his skull. He craned Ryoma’s head upwards to look directly at him.

“As soon as you were separated from yer second half, it was clear as day what ya were,” Assassin chuckled. “What special ability ya got that lets you split into two like that?” 

Ryoma frowned. Assassin clicked his tongue. “So you ain’t gonna answer me either, huh?” Assassin released Ryoma’s head and strode away, kicking up some dust. “Ya must have some master to keep up that ability.” 


End file.
